UNITed in Time
by Domina Temporis
Summary: On being hired by UNIT, Martha has to pay a visit to someone unexpected. Slight sadness, written in honor of Nicholas Courtney.


Martha was nervous enough as it was without having to play a political game, which was how she saw this trip. "I don't see why I have to prove myself to someone else," she said to Colonel Mace. She still didn't much like her gun-happy commanding officer, and so was a little more brusque than she could have been. "I thought I had the best reference a UNIT recruit could come with."

Mace stopped the car outside a large gate. Martha's reference had no official status in the British government, or in any government at all, he suspected. All the same, it was standing policy at UNIT that if he recommended anyone, they were taken on without question. "It's standard procedure, Dr. Jones. Every recruit that comes in with your…unique qualifications pays a visit here."

They were approaching a stately manor house, with a large and cheerful garden all around it. Martha glanced around. It wasn't the sort of place she expected when they told her she'd be coming here.

"Colonel Mace," an authoritative voice called from the front door. "Good to see you again!"

"Brigadier, sir!" Mace said, saluting instantly. The Brigadier nodded sharply and turned to look at Martha. Mace looked between them for a few seconds before saying, "I'll just take a few turns in the garden, then.

The Brigadier watched the younger officer leave before turning to Martha, "Almost enough to make me wish I was still in charge. Anyway, come in. I expect Doris will have a piece of cake or something for you."

Martha followed him inside, a little unsure. He certainly didn't seem like the exalted military type she'd been expecting. Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart's exploits were classified beyond top-secret, and most UNIT recruits these days spoke his name in awed whispers. Based on this, she'd expected a militaristic hard-liner, someone more like Mace. Not this spirited gentleman in front of her.

"Sir?" Martha ventured. "I don't mean any disrespect, but I don't understand why I'm here. I've been hired already, I wasn't aware I had to prove myself anymore."

"Prove yourself?" the Brigadier said, starting to laugh. "Dr. Jones, I'm not going to ask you to prove yourself. I'm retired. Saving the world is the business of the young now. Besides, you have one very good reason why you got this position, and I learned long ago to trust that reason."

Martha's eyes widened, surprised, "You know the Doctor?"

"Know him? He worked for me for years. Always complaining about being stuck on Earth and how limiting it was, but he always kept coming back," the Brigadier was pouring a couple of drinks as he talked, and smiled at Martha's astonishment. "Didn't tell you that, did he?"

"No. I have a hard time picturing him working for anyone," Martha said. "Didn't UNIT ask for identification?"

"The Doctor was sort of a professional secret of mine. You should have seen how the other UNIT teams around the world hated us. Confused by how many advances we made," the Brigadier smiled at the memory, and Martha found herself warming to him. Anyone who could have the Doctor work for him and hide it from his superiors was someone worth respecting.

"So tell me about him. What's the Doctor doing nowadays?" the Brigadier asked.

"Travelling, saving planets. Same thing he's always done, I expect," Martha said.

"What does he look like now?"

"Excuse me?" Martha asked, confused. The Brigadier laughed.

"Didn't tell you that either, then. Time Lords like the Doctor don't die, they regenerate. Change into a new body, I suppose you can call it. Bloody confusing if you're trying to explain why your scientific advisor who used to be tall and white-haired suddenly had a brown afro."

Martha quashed the dismay that arose, since clearly the Doctor didn't trust her, if he hadn't told her something so important. The Brigadier picked up on it though, "Don't get down about it, Dr. Jones. The Doctor never tells anyone anything until he absolutely has to, no matter how much he trusts them."

"Ok, well, he's thin now, young and he's got blondish hair that sticks out in all directions."

The Brigadier shook his head. "He always did have unusual hair. And a very odd dress sense."

"He's not so bad," Martha said, "He likes wearing suits with converse now. And a long brown overcoat." Curious, she continued, "What was he like when you knew him?"

The Brigadier thought for a minute, "Well, that depends. Which one of him are you asking about? The one I met first, or the one I worked with the closest? Or one of the others?"

Martha was taken aback, "How many did you meet?"

"Oh, six or seven, I believe," the Brigadier answered. "After a while I lost count, he just kept showing up and looking different. You get used to it. But when I worked with him, he was tall and thin and had white hair. Dressed like a dandy, and acted like a petulant child when he didn't get what he wanted, while at other times he was charming enough to entertain the Queen." The old soldier shook his head fondly. "He drove me mad."

"He must have cared about you a lot, to keep visiting," Martha said.

"I don't know about that," the Brigadier said. "He hasn't visited in a very long time."

"That's why you ask us here, all of us who come in on his recommendation," Martha said, coming to the realization. "You want to hear about him."

"He certainly made my life exciting," the Brigadier said. "I find I rather miss the fellow, now."

"Sir, if I ever see him again I'll tell him to drop by," Martha said. She had a feeling the very sentimental version of the Doctor that she knew would be more than willing to pass an afternoon reminiscing with an old friend.

"Thank you, Dr. Jones," the Brigadier answered. "I suppose I better pour an extra brandy each night, then."

They passed the afternoon telling more stories of the Doctor, each one growing wilder and wilder. Martha found she was glad to have someone who knew the Doctor that she could talk about this to. She could see why the Time Lord liked the Brigadier so much. He was much more open-minded than most of the military types she'd met, and she left feeling much more confident about her new job. She'd been unsure if she belonged there at first; she'd trained to save lives, not take them. UNIT had struck her as going against everything the Doctor, and more importantly, she believed in. But having met the Brigadier, she saw that there was a reason why the Doctor considered them valuable allies, and thought that she would be proud to consider herself one of their ranks, maybe even help change the organization back to the way the Doctor and the Brigadier remembered it.

Three years later, as she attended a military funeral with tears streaming down her cheeks, Martha couldn't help but notice the various oddly dressed men who stood quietly in the background, away from everyone else and each other. The bagpipes and flag and honor guard meant nothing compared to that; to being the only person in all of time and space to have what looked like every incarnation of the Doctor attend his funeral. It was the highest honor he possibly could have been given, and no one deserved it more.


End file.
